And the Truth Will Set You Free
by SpaceAstronautCapt.RobotKoala
Summary: With his past almost completely behind him, 16 year old Alex Rider suddenly meets Carly, who turns out to be the last person he ever thought he'd encounter. He finds himself digging deeper and deeper for answers... into a pit that drags his loved ones with him. Alex then realizes that before he even knows the truth, the truth will do anything but set him free... T for language.
1. Genesis

**Note: **Hello there! I'd like to apologize in advance for what I know will be a long AN...Yes, I know I should be working on my other AR fanfic "Omnia Iusta Sunt Amore Belloque" but I couldn't resist this idea that popped into my head the other day! This takes place after Scorpia Rising when Alex is 16 years old. I haven't read all the books, especially SR but I've done a bit of research. Excuse any discrepancies anyway and let me know if I miss anything :)

Since I've only a few more chapters to go for the OISAB fic, I'll be focusing on that one rather than this. Senior year (of high school) starts in August and I'd like to finish that one before this! So I apologize once more that this one will most likely be updated slowly.

By the way, this is also the year 2012. I wanted things to be more modern, so instead of 1987, Alex was born in 1996.

Anyway, I hope this first chapter appeals to you. I'm attempting to do my own take on the characters, _especially _the canons, so maybe my interpretations will interest you as well. I hope you give this a chance and stick around! Reviews very much appreciated. Very :)

xx

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the products of my imagination.

**Chapter 1: Genesis**

"One medium Orange-A-Peel!"

The voice belonged to a girl who appeared to be fourteen or fifteen, dressed in the standard Jamba Juice uniform: a Jamba Juice polo shirt and apron and jeans. Her thick, highlighted blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her nametag read: CARLY. She was, in fact, sixteen years old but it was understandable that people often mistook her to be younger; at five-foot-two-inches, she could barely see over the glass display case holding sandwiches and baked goods. It was a wonder that the hair that usually hung almost to her waist didn't tip her over.

The businessman who'd made the order stepped forward to take his drink, then, after saying thanks, left the shop.

Carly had only begun working at Jamba Juice the week before after having decided that she wanted to earn money rather than depend on her parents. School had gotten out for the summer just two days before her first day and she'd been one of the lucky few to have applied and been hired first. This wasn't her first job though; last summer she'd worked at McDonald's and had lasted about six weeks. She'd quit because they'd been constantly giving her ridiculous schedules and her parents had gotten fed up with her coming home smelling like a heart attack waiting to happen.

She didn't miss it.

With a mental sigh, Carly pushed her thick-framed glasses up her nose and proceeded to take the next order. She and her best friend Mel were still hoping for an exciting summer break. They'd just finished their sophomore year at Eden Preparatory Boarding School for Young Women, aka Eden Prep. There, the two girls had eaten, slept, and taken classes with other girls… and _no _boys, hence the name of the school. They were determined to meet new people now, whether at their jobs or the beach. Already it had been several days since summer vacation started and they'd only been able to focus on the former.

As Carly worked behind the counter of Jamba Juice, she was also being watched. Across the street, a man and a woman sat in a black BMW, the 2012 version of the 7 series. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the tinted windows but the interior remained cool. They had been observing the girl for several minutes, and now the woman spoke. She had black hair that was crudely cut short and the car reeked of the peppermint she was sucking on. "Do you really think she'll believe us?" Her words were heavily coated in an English accent.

"Mrs. Jones," the man said. He was American and appeared to be middle-aged with short fair hair and handsome grey eyes. Snyder was his name. Brad Snyder. "These kinds of situations happen all over the world. Frankly, I would be surprised if she _did _believe us at first," he explained with a shrug.

"But the situations you speak of don't always involve intelligence services and spies," Mrs. Jones pointed out. It happened to be that she was the head of MI6 Special Operations, the UK's foreign intelligence service. She would know. "She's not the only one I'm concerned about," she admitted, glancing out the window.

Snyder wasn't the type of person to be affectionate… or sensitive at all. "You might as well be concerned about the other one too. He's been through hell but he's still alive; he's tougher than nails." When Mrs. Jones didn't reply, he asked, "You aren't going to back out, are you?" The stony eyes seemed to glow against his face even with the daylight.

"Of course not."

"Alright then. You've contacted the boy's guardians?"

"Yes." Mrs. Jones looked at Snyder. "They may have agreed, but I can't guarantee that they aren't suspicious."

Snyder nodded. "We still go through with the plan. Whether or not anyone believes us, the truth will always be the truth." His gaze flickered back towards the juice shop, watching the short girl stand on her tiptoes to better see her customer. She had no idea what was coming… and neither did the boy who lived almost two-thousand miles away.

* * *

_Four days later_

"Alex Rider!"

The snap jolted the blond-haired boy awake, setting him on an edge he'd grown used to. It still took a few seconds to realize that he wasn't being held prisoner on an island near Cuba or waking up in a prestigious hospital in London, recovering from a sniper bullet. With his face still in the crook of his arm on his desk, Alex sat up slowly, feeling twenty other pairs of eyes on him. Sabina Pleasure sat a few rows ahead and her bright blue eyes were regarding him with amusement. At the front of the classroom, Mrs. McLean was standing at the whiteboard, both hands on her shapely hips. She was only twenty-nine and her hourglass figure constantly attracted eager teenage boys at John Adams High School. At the moment her lips were curved downward, a sure sign of her distaste.

"Yes, Mrs. McLean?" Alex asked, as if there was nothing wrong at all.

She sighed impatiently. "You very well know that taking naps is not permitted in my classroom, let alone in school." Though it was the last day of the year, she remained dedicated to her job and had decided to give a final lesson on conics after everyone had finished the final exam.

"But I wasn't taking a nap, Mrs. McLean," Alex replied, unable to help himself. The whole class was still watching him. "I was only listening for seismic waves."

"Excuse me?"

He kept his face serious, knowing he sounded ridiculous. "You know, seismic waves? They're caused by movement in the earth such as its tectonic plates sliding against one another or volcanic eruptions. That's what I was trying to find. I believe it's much easier when you lay your ear against the desk; you hear all sorts of things down there."

This wasn't so unlike Alex. It was true; he'd never spoken this way to a teacher back in Brookland when he'd still lived in London. But ever since his life had gone to ruin almost two years ago and he'd lost the only family he had, things had become different. Though it was still often that he awoke from nightmares and saw something that reminded him of his past, Alex was on his way to renewal. Sabina—who'd been his girlfriend then—and her parents had taken him in to live in San Francisco. Here, he was determined to forgive (himself) and forget (everything).

The young math teacher stared at him for a moment as the class held its breath, and then shook her head. "If it weren't the last day of school, Alex, I'd be sending you to the principal's office." It seemed Mrs. McLean was going to continue discussing parabolas when she stopped and turned around. Her eyes sparked with something while her lips twitched into a smirk. "And by the way, seismic waves are measured by seismometers, Mr. Rider, _not _a sixteen-year-old boy's ear."

She went on and Alex allowed himself a smile. Several students were snickering, especially one of his closest friends, Landon Howard. Even though Alex still didn't know why the boy, who knew more about sports than his primary colors, had made it into pre-calculus as a sophomore, he was fun to hang around. He might not have been Tom Harris, Alex's best friend back in London, but he was still a friend. For example, Landon kept him entertained in this particular class with either his stupidity or usual misfit behavior. Sabina on the other hand…

She had quickly turned back to the front of the room. Alex didn't understand why she was so stubborn. They had ended their relationship only months after moving to America and remained good friends. The thing was he suspected that she still had feelings for him. A few days ago, one of the "popular" girls, Jenny Aldridge, had invited him and Landon to an end-of-the-school-year celebration at her house and it was supposed to take place tomorrow afternoon. Sabina, upon hearing about this, had been giving him the cold shoulder since, talking to him when necessary and acting as if he wasn't there otherwise. Alex was hoping that eventually she'd get over it.

The rest of the school day went by unbearably slow. The last two days of the year were supposed to split everyone's schedules, making the periods twice as long as they usually were. Therefore, Alex only had math, gym, and English as his last final exams that he had to take. Of course, math had been finished in a blur, there wasn't a gym final, and English was quite easy as well. When he wasn't chatting with classmates about summer plans and visits to places outside of the country (in which Alex couldn't help but think of London), he was left with his thoughts or falling asleep again.

When the bell finally rang, he was all too eager to jump out of his seat and grab his backpack, out the door before anyone else in his class was. He was already pushing through the front doors by the time most of everyone had filtered into the hallways. Luckily Mother Nature had decided that San Francisco needed a bit of vitamin D; the sun was out, completely unobstructed by withering clouds, and warming Alex's skin. It was probably eighty degrees, a good temperature for May… and a perfect one for an outside water fight. That was how he'd get Sabina to cheer up. He'd have to tell Landon not come over then. Those two didn't get along often.

She met him at the bottom of the stairs in front of the school, her dark hair fluttering in the light breeze. She looked at him once before continuing on to the parking lot where her Toyota Sequoia was parked, a seventeenth birthday present from her parents. Alex huffed and trudged after her, unsure of what to say. Part of him felt bad that she had jealous tendencies, but another said that it wasn't his problem.

Someone yelled goodbye to him and he vaguely waved a hand, suddenly not in a particularly good mood. After piling into the SUV, he glanced over at Sabina, watching as she did all the necessary precautions: checking her mirrors, fastening her seatbelt, etc. "Are you mad at me, Sabina?" Alex asked, and then realized how stupid he sounded.

"Why would you ask that, Alex?" If the sugar-coated voice didn't give her away, the flash in her eyes did: she was being sarcastic. "Just because you're a prat sometimes, doesn't mean I'll be angry at you."

"Did Jenny not invite you to her party or something? You could come with us if you'd like."

Sabina scowled. "It doesn't matter whether she did or not. I wouldn't go to that stupid party anyway."

"At least tell me what I've done wrong," Alex said. He didn't like it was when she was upset. Sometimes it was almost scary when she had a fit; usually she stomped her feet and said—or screamed—rude things.

She appeared to have softened at his words when her shoulders relaxed but then she replied, "I don't have to explain it to you… but I'm sure you can guess. You're a smart boy." Her mouth quirked up at a corner, making an expression that was a cross between a smirk and a grimace.

Alex felt exasperated. He'd known it all along. "Sabina… I don't know what to tell you. It's been nearly a year." He'd never thought a conversation like this would come along and it pained him to have it now. He had long resolved his feelings about her: she was his friend. Though he would never tell her, Alex's memories of being with her only brought back ones about his uncle Ian, Jack Starbright, his parents… and of course, MI6.

"You're right," Sabina said abruptly as she stopped at a stop sign. "It's been a year. Things have changed. I'll forget about it." They said no more after that, dwelling in their own thoughts. Alex was tempted to tell her to move on and find someone who really cared for her but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was still contemplating what to say or do by the time they arrived home.

Mr. and Mrs. Pleasure had bought a condominium in the west-central part of the city, another door sandwiched between the countless other doors of apartment blocks near the high school. While some wore the pastel colors of dollhouses and tea parties, this one was grey with bright white trim. Windows invaded the two floors and a single one occupied the triangle space of the attic. One round tree that reached the top floor was set at intervals between each condo like a last minute decoration. Unfortunately, the street was at a bit of an angle, probably thirty to forty degrees, and it forced the family to constantly use the emergency brake and turn their wheels the proper way when parking. This, to Alex, was an endless bother.

The spot in front of the stone steps leading to the front door was empty and Sabina went for it. After three long minutes of trying to parallel park, Alex was forced to stop her and do it himself. She stood on the curb with her arms crossed, watching him as he skillfully maneuvered the SUV in just a few turns he had learned from listening to Mr. Pleasure as he tried to teach his daughter to drive last year. Less than a minute later, they entered the condo wordlessly.

Mr. Pleasure was sitting in the living room to their right with a newspaper open in his lap. His reading glasses were perched on his nose and they slipped as he looked up. "Hello!" he greeted cheerfully.

Both Alex and Sabina mumbled their hellos, not looking at each other.

"How was the last day of school?"

"It was fine," Alex answered as Sabina said, "Dreadful." They exchanged glances briefly before looking away.

Mr. Pleasure seemed to sense the tension. His gaze switched back and forth between the two teenagers as he considered what to say. "How so?"

Alex didn't know who he was talking to, considering his and Sabina's answers were different, but it didn't matter. She was already talking. "First of all, Mrs. McLean is a _horrible _teacher. She gave us another lesson after we finished our final exam! More hyperbolas and circles. Honestly, we're all bound to forget everything after today…"

Seeing an opening for an escape, Alex inched behind Sabina as she gesticulated animatedly. He felt her father's eyes on him though, and before he could reach the bottom of the stairs, someone spoke.

"Oh, good, you're home!" Mrs. Pleasure had entered the room from the kitchen and was smiling radiantly. Her hair was up in a bun and she looked very put together. "Your father and I were expecting you."

But of course they were. They expected them home half past two Monday through Friday. "Mom," Sabina sighed, flopping onto the couch. "I was just telling Dad about school—"

"Yes, yes," her mother answered, waving a hand. "Alex, would you sit down, please? We'd like to tell you something." She waited until Alex came down the stairs and crossed the room to sit down on the opposite end of the couch. Her eyebrows furrowed at the sight of them so far away from each other but she said nothing. "A few days ago we received an email. It told us something very important, something that we didn't dare ignore… because it concerned you, Alex. And they asked us not to tell you until today, otherwise…"

"Who?" Alex asked, frowning. "Who sent this email?"

Mrs. Pleasure hesitated. "I don't believe it would help if I told you. I'm sorry. But…" She turned to her husband expectantly.

He'd been secretly reading the newspaper in his lap, keeping his head up as if he were looking at Sabina and Alex. Now realizing the silence, he glanced up and hastily sat up, looking sheepish. Putting aside the newspaper, he picked up where his wife left off. "It wouldn't be right for us to tell you ourselves, Alex, so…" Mr. Pleasure glanced towards the kitchen. "There is someone here to see you."

"Me?" Alex was bewildered. Who would want to see him? Nearly everyone he knew was dead. Except for Tom.

"Yes. We just ask that you both, ah…" Mr. Pleasure couldn't seem to find the words. "It may be a surprise to you. Well, for Alex it may not. Actually, he might—"

Mrs. Pleasure cut him off. "What he's trying to say is that we don't know how you will react." Her eyes were on Alex and he knew that her words were meant mainly for him. "Just know that we are right here if you need anything."

He didn't know what to say, so he shrugged and went for "Alright."

"I'll be right back." Mrs. Pleasure disappeared for a moment back into the kitchen, leaving the three of them in silence. Sabina opened her mouth as if to say something but decided against it, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. Quickly, her mother returned and she wasn't alone.

Behind her were four people. One of them stood out immediately to Alex because she was shorter than every person in the room. She had to be no older than fifteen with blonde hair that hung in loose waves down her back. She wore an expression of curiosity and apprehension and a lacy white blouse, jeans, and red Converse. She was pretty in a way… but something about her set Alex off, something more than the fact that she was a stranger. Next to her was a woman with long dark hair and facial features that gave her away as Hispanic. She too looked nervous. There was a man dressed in a gray suit that matched his eyes and following him was another woman, whom Alex recognized.

Mrs. Jones.

Seeing her was like being thrown under a waterfall of acid rain. The water was the memories, its bitter taste bringing back the amount of pain and agony he'd experienced over the span of several months. Here he had been, trying to dry away his past and be a normal teenager when the reappearance of a woman who'd brought him into the spy world dunked him under. What was she doing here?

"What is this?" he demanded, standing from the couch.

Mrs. Jones stepped towards him. "Alex, please—"

"What are you doing here?" he went on, staring at her. He couldn't believe it. She had been the last person he'd expected to come see him. But that was it, wasn't it? He'd thought everyone—his uncle, housekeeper, and parents—were all gone. MI6 was a memory he wanted to burn. And now she was here in America? In his _home_?

Mrs. Jones had adopted a look of desperation, something that didn't suit her. "Alex, just listen to me…" she tried again.

Alex shook his head vigorously. "No. Whatever it is, no. Forget it! I left you and MI6 behind a long time ago. I will _not _go back there and save your sorry asses again. You don't think it was enough to get the closest person I had to a sister killed?" His face scrunched up in disgust. "I can't believe you had the nerve to come here. This is my new life, Mrs. Jones! This is my new family! You honestly believe you can just show up like this? No, just no. I suggest you leave because _I'm not coming back._" He didn't care if there were three other strangers in the room, much less that they may not know who exactly he was. Mrs. Jones could deal with that.

It seemed that she was too frozen to speak, her eyes imploring with him. The man in the suit stepped forward and at once Alex disliked him. He had an air of arrogance and he was looking at him with an amused expression. "We aren't here about an assignment, Alex Rider," he explained calmly. "In fact, the reason why we're here is probably the last thing you would expect."

"Your showing up here is the last thing I had expected," Alex replied, leveling his gaze with him. "Who are you?"

"Brad Snyder. I work with the CIA." He offered a hand which Alex didn't take.

"How do you suppose we believe that, then?" It was Sabina who'd spoken. She was frowning at Mrs. Jones and Snyder. "If you aren't here to get Alex killed again, what are you here for?"

Snyder still had his eyes on Alex but put the unshaken hand into his pocket. "Mrs. Jones?"

The head of MI6 blinked and, realizing that everyone was looking at her, attempted to regain her composure. With an earnest look, she said, "Believe me, Alex. The last thing I want to do is put you through another cruel assignment. As I've said before, I could never forgive myself for doing so in the first place."

_I don't want your apology, _Alex wanted to say but he remained silent. Now that he really looked at her, he could see how much and also how little she'd changed. Still sporting the same bad haircut and dark clothing, there was a touch of something new about her that had nothing to do with her appearance. It was more underneath, a transformation that he could only feel.

"After you moved here to America, I felt obligated to do something," she continued. "You had only gone through so much… I searched for something to help, a person, a place… anything that could relieve your pain, even just for a little bit."

"Thanks for your concern, but I'm not crazy," Alex said mildly.

Mrs. Jones stared at him. "That's the last thing that ever comes to my mind whenever I think of you, Alex." He looked away, feeling uncomfortable. "I stumbled upon something while looking through your file. Medical records. One could say that you couldn't know everything about a person just by reading a bunch of papers about them," she explained, "but then there are other things that those papers say that even the person doesn't know."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Alex, there is a bit of information that has been concealed from you and while you may think of it as no surprise, I realized that it was something you need to know." Mrs. Jones glanced at the blonde-haired girl and gestured. The girl came closer and Alex could see that while he was nearly six feet tall, she was almost a whole head shorter than him. "I can't say for sure that it may help things… but I admit that I hope it'll turn into something good. That's why I contacted the CIA and met with Miss Rosada and her family in Texas. I've brought them here to San Francisco so you could meet them."

Alex glimpsed at the girl whose eyes were watching him nervously. Why did she look so uneasy? "I still don't understand, Mrs. Jones." Despite his attempts to stay calm and believe nothing was wrong, anxiety was chewing away at his nerves. He was suddenly aware that everyone else in the room had their eyes on them and could almost taste the anticipation in the air.

"Alex," Mrs. Jones said, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder. "I'd like you to meet Carly… your sister."

* * *

**Note: **Review please! :D I'd love to hear your thoughts on this little plot twist thingy I've got going... and everything else of course. I'll do my best to update if people like this(:


	2. Peripeteia

**Note:** Wow, updating this took a lot longer than I thought it would. Anyway, thanks so much for the reviews, follows, and faves! I've finally finished the _other_ AR fic I was in the middle of when I'd first posted this story, but even though that's out of the way, I've still started school, so there's no guarantee that I'll do any fast updating. You might not care, but my first two weeks of school have been pretty great save for a few personal lows here and there. BUT I'm quite motivated now to finish my last year of high school the best I can :D Yep. Let's just hope that taking one extra class than I need to won't kill me or be a huge mistake..

_BlondDude42: _I'm glad I got the element of surprise to work well haha. Glad you like it!

_JJ: _Thank you so much. Actually, I've read half of the series but I certainly need to get to reading the rest, especially the last one! I hate having to research things I don't know because i haven't read the particular book :/ Hopefully I'll get to those last few by the time I finish this fic :)

A notice to those who read the original first chapter: in this particular story, Alex was not born in 1987 as our beloved Anthony Horowitz wrote him. I wanted some modernity so I've decided to have this take place during 2012, meaning that Alex was born in 1996... this just might be a sad excuse for wanting to include iPhones and Justin Bieber... wait, what?

Also, I'm sure about 99% of us don't know what "peripeteia" means. I looked up synonyms for "turning point" and this is one of the words I got. I have to say, it's pretty cool! (it's Greek too)

Enjoy (:

**Chapter 2: Peripeteia**

Carly had only been in shock twice. There had been that one time during summer vacation five years ago when her little sister Maggie had almost drowned in the ocean waters of Stewart Beach down by Galveston, Texas. At that time, she had never felt so terrified in her life. But now there was the second time too… when she'd been told that she had a twin brother.

_The silence stretched on forever but Carly hadn't the slightest intention to break it. She was afraid that opening her mouth would only let all her air out and she wouldn't be able to breathe again. Her brain was going hundreds of miles an hour but her mind and thoughts couldn't keep up. Was this for real? Maybe she was dreaming._

He's your brother. _That certainly couldn't possibly be true. Maggie was her sister… adopted sister, but still…_

_She just felt so confused... It took a while, but eventually comprehension came through and Carly understood, though she didn't know what to believe. All she _did _know was that there was the truth and there was the lie: she just had to make sure she figured out which was which._

"_You're kidding," she finally managed to say, her words sounding distorted and strangled. She stared at the man and woman before her, Snyder and Mrs. Jones, as they had introduced themselves. They were a CIA agent and the Head of MI6 Special Operations, respectively. _

_Mrs. Jones shook her head. "I assure you that this is no joke, Miss Rosada."_

"_It's Carly." She swallowed hard, barely caring that she sounded rude. "My name is Carly."_

"_It doesn't make sense," her mother said in a strained voice, cutting off whatever the other woman was about to say. Her words were slightly lilted, being that she was a _hispanohablante **(1)**. _Even after two decades in America, anyone could tell that English was not her first language._ _"That can't be right!"_

"_What can't be right, Ms. Rosada?" Mrs. Jones asked gently._

_The look in her mother's dark eyes was almost terrifying; even Carly's worst disobediences had never roused that kind of black emotion from her. "Accusing my daughter to be of void birth and blood!" she answered. "I adopted her as Carly Strauss, orphaned girl with no family and nowhere to go. No one said anything about her having a brother, let alone a sibling at all. There was no evidence of that in the documents."_

"_That's because no one knew until now," Snyder pointed out, earning a warning look from the MI6 head. He ignored her and leaned forward from his position on the couch, resting his forearms on his knees. "Look… we didn't expect you to believe us and we still don't. Until we can actually get the evidence to you, you'll just have to trust us—"_

"_You said that he is a spy." Ms. Rosada's tone was hushed._

_Carly winced. She'd just barely gotten over the slightest possibility that she had a real, blood-related brother and now something else had forced its way into her conscience, demanding that she repeat the process of going into shock: apparently he was some secret agent superspy._

"_He _was _a spy for MI6," Mrs. Jones corrected, "though he never liked to think of himself that way." She frowned, her forehead creasing in thought._

_Shaking her head, Carly said, "I don't believe you." Both strangers looked at her, surprise absent from their faces. "First, you come knocking on our door, claiming that you're part of the American and British governments, and then you think you can feed us some more lies about my supposed twin brother being some teenage spy. I'm not stupid and neither is my mom. Even my thirteen-year-old sister wouldn't believe you and _she _seems to think that she'll meet Justin Bieber someday and marry him. This is ridiculous." She took a deep breath, slumping into the couch. Never had she ever spoken like this to anyone before but these people had managed to provoke her. "Ma?" she called, expecting her mother to agree._

_She did all too strongly. "She's right," she said roughly as she stood. Even if she had been her biological mother, it was obvious that Carly hadn't gotten her height from her. "I've had enough of you trying to manipulate us into whatever scheme you're planning. Leave my family out of this." To emphasize what she meant, Ms. Rosada pointed towards the front door._

_Mrs. Jones and Snyder remained where they were, staring at her. "With all due respect, ma'am," Snyder replied seriously, "I'm afraid we can't do that."_

_Carly felt her mother's grip tighten on her shoulder but she couldn't find the strength to react. She was busy trying to find a reason for why the dread was suddenly and rapidly washing through her, eliminating any sense of peace and safety._

"_And why is that?"_

_The CIA agent never removed his gaze from Ms. Rosada's. "Because you don't have a choice."_

Those moments had elicited emotions more complicated than a Rubik's cube, though somehow Carly was able to recognize the ones she'd felt as they flashed across the other boy's face. She'd come here not knowing what to expect; she didn't know much about Alex aside from the information Mrs. Jones had tried to gather for her (which wasn't much.) She certainly knew that he and the Pleasures hailed from Britain—Alex might've already been losing his accent because it sounded softer than Edward and Elizabeth Pleasure's. That didn't help anything because how he would react had been one of the burning unknowns in Carly's mind on the trip from Houston, aside from the multiple fears of being kidnapped, murdered, or anything along those lines.

So since the moment she had set foot on California territory, Carly had been on her toes, bristling in anticipation and worry. She'd been shown pictures of the family but printed, one-dimensional faces on paper weren't enough to ease her. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before… and she knew that it went the same for Alex.

He was gaping at the head of MI6, his mouth actually fallen open. Incredulity and surprise pulsed from him, sending another tingle of anxiety through Carly, who stood there frozen. Yet he didn't say anything, no doubt still trying to process Mrs. Jones's words. The hairs on the back of Carly's neck rose, giving her the sensation that someone was watching her. Looking away from Alex, she saw that the girl, Sabina, was indeed staring with bright wide eyes. She couldn't tell if they were full of suspicion or mere shock, but before she could decide it was making her uncomfortable, someone spoke.

"Sister?" It was the woman, Mrs. Pleasure. Though it was hard to tell if she'd voiced her thoughts aloud or was actually asking someone, her gaze remained on her adopted son. The concern mixed with utter disbelief was evident on her gentle face, confirming the true maternal feelings she kept for him.

"That's impossible," Mr. Pleasure put in, his eyes on Mrs. Jones instead. "That's… that can't be."

No one said anything, allowing the silence to deafen everyone's ears again. Carly remained frozen, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. At last, the immobile, shell-shocked figure of Alex moved: his mouth closed and she heard his teeth snap together. He spoke through them, the two stifled words coated in ice.

"You're lying."

Mrs. Jones shook her head slowly. "Alex, I would not lie to you—"

"_Bullshit!"_

The outburst made Carly jump. She, along with everyone else he had startled, watched in astonishment as Alex's demeanor flipped, the ice thawing into flames.

"That's absolute bull!" His eyes were blazing with anger while his fists were balled up tightly at his sides. He looked like he was having difficulty containing himself. "I don't believe it! You're just as conniving and selfish as Blunt was! Did you really believe that I'd fall for your stupid tricks?"

"This is not a trick—"

"I beg to differ, Mrs. Jones," Alex retorted so nastily that Carly half expected him to spit at the woman's feet. "You're not looking to heal me or whatever crap you're trying to feed us. Everything you touch you destroy. Your very presence is already sending my new life crumbling." He seemed as if he was going to say more but he didn't; he stepped back as he breathed heavily, moving his gaze to the floor.

Mrs. Jones was quiet. Carly wondered for a moment if she might've been hurt but it occurred to her that she came off as too emotionless for that—she was probably just taken aback.

"Alex."

Carly stiffened. Her mother had stepped forward and was looking hesitant. Her brown eyes were darting uneasily between everyone, lingering on her daughter a few seconds longer than on anyone else. Before Carly could ask what she was doing, Ms. Rosada said, "She's telling you the truth."

The boy looked up at her, his face smoothed over in reserved anger. "Whatever they're paying you, don't take it. It's not worth being manipulated by these people. Besides…" He glanced away, his head turned slightly to the side like he wanted to look at something behind him but couldn't. "This is my family. No one else."

And with that, Alex met Carly's gaze, sending a chill through her. She didn't know whether or not to be offended. Could she say that she didn't blame him for how he was reacting? Like Mrs. Jones had mentioned before, you can't tell a lot about a person just by reading a bunch of papers about them. But then again, their own secrets can be kept unknown to them by someone else.

"Alex is right," Mrs. Pleasure suddenly said, standing from the couch. She had a determined look on her face as she strode over and placed a hand on his shoulder, directing her glare at Mrs. Jones and Snyder. "You've done enough damage for a lifetime, for _his _lifetime. I'm afraid your ploy will have to go unfinished and I have to ask you to leave."

Mrs. Jones was stiff and the man next to her looked simply disappointed or annoyed. Carly didn't know what was going to happen now—what excuse would they throw at the Pleasures? It couldn't be the same reason they'd thrown at her family. It was starting to look as if they'd come all the way over here for nothing. And that very thought ended up being the factor that Carly couldn't ignore—sure, she didn't know a thing about the Pleasures or even what exactly she was being dragged into, but there had to be _something _true and unavoidable in these circumstances…

"They did DNA tests." Her voice sounded strangely different but that barely mattered; everyone had turned to look at her, including Alex. She forced herself to go on, wringing her fingers nervously. "Our DNA was run twice through tests… both came up positive."

That seemed to do the trick. Alex's eyes glazed over with something unreadable and he looked away, swallowing hard. No one said anything as he and the Pleasures processed this and Carly wondered if she'd done the right thing.

"If you'd like to see the proof," Snyder said quietly, "one of the CIA's office branches isn't too far from here. We can discuss the rest of this there."

At last, Alex looked towards his adoptive parents. He must've been silently asking them something with his eyes because Mr. Pleasure shook his head, gesturing towards him. "This is entirely up to you, Alex. Liz and I will support you with whatever you want to do."

Carly watched as her supposed brother turned and met Mrs. Jones's gaze. There was a new hardness to him, a sense of determination that hadn't been there minutes before. It was evident in his voice as he said, "All right then. I'll go with you. But my family has to come too."

Mrs. Jones nodded once. "Of course."

Alex's eyes landed on Carly then and the fiery emotion in them was so raw, so hard that she had to look away. She had never been very good at reading people but the look he had given her was incredibly real and unrestrained it made her heart pound… She couldn't have possibly imagined it. Her imagination wasn't creative enough to have come up with dark eyes filled with such anguish and _hate_. Her imagination wouldn't have dared to let her think that this boy, who hadn't said a word to her at all, already hated her…

Would it?

* * *

When her mother had to tell her little sister and _abuela_ about taking a trip to San Francisco, Carly had already prepared herself for the dozens of questions she'd be bombarded with. Though she'd tried to lie as little as possible and answer what she could, eventually she'd gotten tired of it while trying to pack the day before the flight. Maggie had been scrolling through Carly's iPhone 4 and lounging on the double bed, no doubt deciding which Justin Bieber song to play.

"Are we really going there for vacation?" she'd asked for the hundredth time that day, still staring at the screen.

"Maggie!" Carly had groaned as she shoved a pair of flip-flops deeper into the suitcase. "Seriously, quit with the questions. You're driving me insane!"

Her sister had scowled at her before saying, "I just wanna know. Geez. If we're going to California, why not go to LA?"

"If you get inside your suitcase, I'd be happy to throw it off the plane," she'd muttered. "Maybe you'll get lucky and you'll end up in Los Angeles. Maybe _I'll _get lucky and you'll end up in China."

It had barely been twenty-four hours and—sitting in the shiny BMW with her mother, Mrs. Jones, and Snyder, on their way to some CIA office—Carly realized that she already missed her bratty sister and distant grandmother. Maggie might've been a pain most of the time and sometimes it was hard to get information through to seventy-eight-year-old Abuelita, but Carly longed to be with them. It was a lucky thing that Ms. Rosada had family here in San Francisco; Maggie and Abuelita were staying with Uncle Marco and his girlfriend on the other side of town, thinking Ms. Rosada was there on some business trip that somehow involved Carly. They were nearby but they were also safe.

"Are you okay?" Ms. Rosada asked in a soft voice, reaching for Carly's knee. Her dark hair, which usually looked neat, looked bedraggled and made her appear tired.

Carly gave her a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Ma. What about you?"

"Don't worry about me. I'm fine too."

Looking out the window, Carly tried hopelessly to focus on the city around her. She'd only been to San Francisco one other time but remembered nothing from it; she'd only been about three years old after all. Had the sun been so bright thirteen years ago too? She silently cursed herself for packing her sunglasses in her suitcase.

"He'll come through," Snyder spoke up from the driver's seat. His Oakley sunglasses were visible in the rearview mirror. "It'll take him a while to get used to it but he won't be able to ignore the facts—that's for sure."

Carly didn't know what to say. She wasn't sure if she should agree. Sure, she and her mother believed all of this ninety-eight percent but that remaining two percent came from reasonable skepticism. Not only did some of this seem impossible (like the "fact" that Alex had once been some secret agent for MI6) but there was contradicting evidence everywhere; it was hard to decide what was real. Ms. Rosada had Carly's birth certificate and adoption papers but Mrs. Jones had the "real" ones bearing her "real" name: Carly Ann Rider. They had her "real" parents' names too: John and Helen Rider. For some reason her birthday had only been off by a day though the hospital and hour of birth had changed; she was still an Aquarius but had been born the day _before_ Valentine's Day instead of on… and somehow, this bit of information relieved her.

Yet precisely forty-three minutes later in a small conference room that reeked of coffee and floral air freshener, Alex asked the very question Carly and her mother had been wondering since the moment they'd been told she had a twin brother. Already he and the Pleasures had been shown the DNA evidence proving their relationship and he'd dismissively—if not bitterly—accepted it.

"Why?"

At the head of the table, Mrs. Jones shook her head again. She'd been doing that a lot lately. "I don't know, Alex. Despite this incredible information revealing Carly's existence, I haven't found anything else. There are all these papers concerning her that change her name and basic overall connection to you but there is no _reason._ I can't figure out who did it or why."

"Do you think it was Blunt?" The question came out flatly.

Mrs. Jones looked up. "I can't say for sure but I wouldn't be surprised."

Alex said nothing.

"Would it have anything to do with him being a spy?" Carly asked suddenly.

He raised an eyebrow. "You actually believe that? You really think I used to work for MI6?"

Aware of everyone's eyes on her, Carly just shrugged, unsure of what to say. "It's kind of hard to know what to believe…"

"Whether or not you believe it, I don't think his being an agent had anything to do with it," Mrs. Jones explained. "This was done either the moment you two were born or it was a predetermined plan. I doubt anyone had any idea that Alex would grow up to do what he's done."

"I can think of someone who did," Alex muttered.

Carly furrowed her brows. What was he talking about?

The head of MI6 seemed to understand what he'd said. She pressed her lips together and nodded once, probably to herself. Before she could say anything though, Sabina began to speak.

"This must be the work of MI6 then, right? I mean, why else would you have found it in Blunt's office?"

Carly looked at the girl carefully. She'd known by the family picture that she was very pretty… she'd always wanted blue eyes and freckles. But then, arriving to meet her and her family in person, Carly saw how the California sun had done her justice without giving her a sunburn—Sabina's brown hair had lightened and, in contrast, her skin had taken on a perfect golden brown. Had she and Alex really only been friends? If so, he was insane for not thinking he could be more than that with her. It didn't matter so much that technically they were brother and sister. He was a good-looking guy. _Then again,_ Carly thought, _there's the issue of whether or not she's a total—_

"That investigation is underway, Sabina," Mrs. Jones replied. "I can't have too many people knowing this very situation, so even though resources may be limited, I'm doing my best to find out as much as I can.

"Regardless, this isn't why I brought Carly and her mother here, Alex," she continued. "I know you don't trust me and I cannot blame you at all for that; I don't expect you to. But when I'd found these documents, I thought to myself, 'If there's one last _good _thing I can do for Alex Rider, what can it be?' And I realized that this might be it."

"What good can a stranger ever bring you?"

"Well, if that stranger happens to be your sister, you may never know." The woman shrugged. It looked unnatural for her. "You've grown up practically without family, Alex, except for your uncle. I know you'd like to keep insisting that the Pleasures are your family now and as much as I'm glad to know that, I felt that connecting you with someone you deserve to know would be a good step. Tell me: if you'd known that you had a sibling, found out somehow whether it was through MI6 or something else, what would you have done? Would you have looked for her?"

Carly found herself answering that question too. At ten years old, her mother had told her that she'd been adopted and Maggie was not in fact related to her at all. On the surface, that came as immense relief knowing she shared no blood with the little freak. But deep down, it was a huge disappointment. She'd planned on searching for her birth parents after high school except… according to Mrs. Jones, they were dead.

At the same time, it made sense too. All her life, she'd been blonde. There were many times when people had asked if she dyed her hair (even when she hadn't hit eight years old), knowing that her family was Hispanic and dark-haired. Many times, Carly had confronted her mother about it but Ms. Rosada had always given her some bizarre, vague answer about how she was born different with different genes and that it wasn't a bad thing. Until ten years old, Carly had been stuck with the idea that she was just weird.

But thinking about it now, would she have searched for her brother, had she known he existed? Would she have gone to great lengths to find out who he was, contact him and perhaps meet him in person? The answer was yes. She didn't hesitate in answering that question. She couldn't see how someone wouldn't want to.

"I don't know, Mrs. Jones," Alex said quietly, staring at her. "Maybe. Maybe not."

Mrs. Jones sighed. "Well, I'm not going to force you to do anything else after this. I thought that if I couldn't convince you, at least you'd have the idea in your head so that maybe you'd eventually come to believe it on your own. But if you _did_ believe me, I hoped that you'd take this opportunity and use it to your advantage. Surely I won't tell you how to proceed from here on out because that's in your hands… and Carly's, of course."

"Use it to my advantage?"

"Get to know her, kid," Snyder interrupted, using his hands as he spoke. "You've been through a lot. You don't know what good this could bring. For sixteen years you never knew you had a twin sister. I know it's shocking but think about it. Would you want to live the rest of your life knowing you had a sibling but had never taken the time to actually know her?"

Brad Snyder sure had a way with words. Carly wasn't sure if _she_ was convinced by his speech and Alex didn't look like he was either. Even so, he wasn't saying no right away.

He turned to look at her, his eyes no longer burning with the hatred she'd seen earlier. "What do _you_ think? You're part of this as much as I am."

Blinking, she scrambled for a response. "I… I dunno. It all seems a little… far-fetched but…"

"We can't force you to be the best of friends overnight," Mrs. Jones said, "and I don't expect you to even become friends at all. But it's worth a try, don't you think?"

"But what about the whole business with the secret documents?" Mrs. Pleasure asked from her place next to Alex. "How are we to ignore those?"

"I am doing everything I can to find out why it happened," she reassured her. "It's up to you if you want any updates—I'm sure Alex would rather not have anything to do with me or MI6 right now. Or ever."

Mrs. Pleasure turned to Ms. Rosada with wide eyes. "And you're willing to do this?"

Carly saw her mother nod once in the corner of her eye. "I don't want to make any final judgment until I know for sure what my daughter and I are dealing with. If this turns out to benefit her… so be it."

"I don't know if anyone cares for my opinion," Mr. Pleasure began, "but personally, I don't think it's such a bad idea. Of course, I have my doubts about some things but… anything to help Alex."

"Mr. Pleasure, I don't need help—" Alex started in a tired voice.

"Dad!" Sabina hissed, leaning over the table to look at her father. "You actually believe this rubbish?"

"Sabina, he isn't saying—" Mrs. Pleasure tried to say.

"I'm not saying I believe them completely!" Mr. Pleasure insisted. "But never mind what I think. This is up to Alex… and, you know, his sis—Carly, I mean."

Alex seemed to be watching Mrs. Jones. "What if I don't want to know anything about why we were separated at birth?"

She didn't have the slightest idea why anyone would think like that but Carly kept her mouth shut. Instead, she listened for the woman's reply.

"Then you won't hear from me," Mrs. Jones guaranteed. "Honestly, Alex, I don't want to drag you into our world anymore. As much as you don't want to hear it, I just want to help you out."

And even then, while the Rosada family remained in their private bubble of seclusion and uncertainty, and the Pleasures wore mixed feelings of hope and confidence (Mr. and Mrs. Pleasure), anticipation heavily concealed by wariness (Alex), and downright hostility (Sabina), no one truly knew that these were the real objectives of Tulip Jones. Ever since the boy's last disastrous mission and the death of his housekeeper and close friend, Jack Starbright, she had been nothing but desperately wishing she could rewind the clock back to the day his uncle, Ian Rider, had died. If she had ever been given the chance to travel back into time and prevent Alex from being sucked into the spy world, she would have done it… no matter what the cost.

Little did she know—or anyone in that room for that matter—it didn't matter how strong or good her intentions were. Once in the spy world, always in the spy world.

And there is no going back.

* * *

**Note: **(1) I don't think _hispanohablante_ necessarily means _native _Spanish speaker, but it certainly means "Spanish speaker"

If you were a reader of _Omnia Iusta Sunt Amore Belloque,_ you're probably wondering what it is with me and Spanish stuff. I mean, David Reyes was Spanish/Mexican/Hispanic whatever you wanna call them, and there was the whole Costa Amenas thing, and the Joshua thing, but hey... I really like Spanish, the language itself... and the food. I do like tacos and fried ice cream (although, I don't think the Spanish were the ones who created fried ice cream).

I'm rambling. Sorry, my ANs do tend to get a little long, for those of you who are reading my fics for the first time. ANYWAY, I hope you enjoyed this chapter- please please do review, I'd really like some feedback! Let's cross our fingers and hope I can get another chapter up soon :)

Thanks,

xx


	3. Choices

**Note:** Please don't kill me! I know, it's been like 5 months since I updated. I'm really really sorry! And I actually _have_ been writing but it's just been a slow process. Anyway, if you aren't reading the latest AR fic I've been working on (The Lightning Strike), here are some things you should know:

1. My family is moving very soon so we are quite busy with packing and finding a place to stay while our new house is being built.

2. My laptop has failed me and the only resource I can rely on is this lovely app Evernote that allows me to access my documents from my iPhone, Kindle Fire, & family computer. Yes, everything written after January of this year is on Evernote, so I've pretty much lost everything else that's on my laptop :( Yes, I can also use the computer to write but it's pretty old and has shut down on me in the middle of schoolwork, so I've deemed it untrustworthy. What does all this mean? I've been writing on my iPhone and Kindle, just for you guys. Let's just say that my thumbs have been getting a workout haha

Okie dokes(: Here we go.

**Chapter 3: Choices**

"If I may," Ms. Rosada said, "I'd like to speak with my daughter for a moment. Alone." Her face was blank as she stood up from the table. Carly followed her to the door that they'd come through, feeling everyone's eyes on her back. With each step that brought her further from the strangers came a breath less strangled. She didn't realize how uncomfortable she'd been feeling the whole time.

"Mom…" she started to say as she closed the door behind her, watching as her mother folded her arms and covered her mouth with her fingers. This was her much used thinking pose. Her gaze was on the floor but there was an unmistakable faraway look in her eyes. They were the only ones in the carpeted hallway; Carly didn't want to know if their words were even safe.

Before Carly could start again, Ms. Rosada began speaking rapidly in Spanish. "We have to get out of here, Carly. I don't trust these people. It all sounds crazy and I don't believe any of it. I shouldn't have let them bring us here—I shouldn't have put you in this situation. I'm sorry, mi hija, but I promise I'll fix this. We will get your sister and abuela and be on the next plane out of here." She didn't wait for a response; instead she took a deep breath and started to pace, still deep in thought. "We have to let Mrs. Jones know that we want nothing to do with this. We will tell them the truth: we aren't comfortable and—"

"Wait a second. Mami, what are you talking about?" Carly interrupted, reaching for her mother's elbow to stop her. "You want to leave?" Was she hearing her correctly?

Ms. Rosada stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening. "Of course. Are you saying you want to stay?"

"No, but two minutes ago you were willing to. What happened to not making final judgments and 'If that's what's best for her, so be it'?" It wasn't as if she didn't want to leave, but Carly knew her mom—she was the kind of person who made final decisions and stuck with them. Was this one of the few rare times she second guessed herself?

"I was only saying that," Ms. Rosada answered exasperatedly, shaking her head. "I don't trust any one of those people."

Before she knew what she was doing, Carly asked, "But what if they're telling the truth? What if… what if he's really my brother?" She couldn't find it in herself to say his name.

The woman regarded her daughter with soft eyes and approached her slowly, placing her hands on both shoulders. "Listen to me, Carly… they're lying to us, lying to you. We can't simply trust them like this. They could have cooked up those birth certificates and tampered with the blood tests. You and I both know how insane this all sounds. I will not put you at any risk."

Carly listened to her words, hearing the sense and logic in them, ringing with the familiar wisdom she'd grown up with. Though she had to agree that all of this was absurd, a tiny part of her was hopeful… insane, as her mother had said, but hopeful. If Alex was indeed her twin brother, this was her chance to get to know him and have him as part of her life. She would never forgive herself is she threw away such an opportunity.

And if they were really strangers after all? Well, at least they'd find out. Carly had always been told to try new things—you don't really know anything until you try. Thanks to this method, she had developed a love for sushi despite her initial disgust for seafood.

Except this was different… if her mother was right, this really was a decision between life and death. Who knew what kind of people Mrs. Jones and the Pleasures were? They could be dangerous.

Yet the flickering kindle of curiosity and eagerness was burning brightly, a sensation Carly couldn't ignore.

"Let's just stick it out for a few days," she suggested, forcing herself to maintain eye contact as Ms. Rosada stared at her. "Mrs. Jones said she wasn't going to bother us anymore after this, anyway. I just want to see if this works out, Mom. Give it a day or two…" Ms. Rosada started shaking her head, pulling her hands away. "I know it's dangerous and crazy. Believe me, I don't completely trust them either," Carly went on, hoping she sounded convincing. "But we don't always have to spend time with them or whatever it is they're trying to do. Tomorrow we can go to Uncle's house and look around the city; it'll help take your mind off this while you… um, reconsider. Ma, just give it 'til Saturday." The last sentence came out with the slightest whine and she bit her lip, mentally kicking herself.

Her palms were sweaty. The only other time she'd given a speech like this was in sixth grade when she'd been trying for class president. The one distinction was that at eleven years old, she'd tried to convince her classmates of her leadership skills, and now she was practically begging for admittance into an insane asylum.

She remembered the CIA agent's words too. Despite Mrs. Jones's attempts to relieve the pressure on her and her mother, he had made it very clear that they were flying to San Francisco. That was another thing that didn't make sense—they'd forced them to fly two thousand miles to meet a bunch of strangers and then said that it was up to Carly and Ms. Rosada if they wanted to follow through. None of it added up.

Carly already assumed her mother would shake her head and march into the room to tell everyone that they were leaving. It was clear by the intense gaze and folded arms again that she wasn't close to agreeing to what she'd proposed. But to her surprise, Ms. Rosada sighed and put her hands on her hips, saying, "I don't like it all, Carly, but… until Saturday then." She nodded. "I am not saying yes or no; I will think about it… on one condition," she added. "We leave when I think it's necessary, at the first sign of any kind of danger. Tomorrow we will visit your uncle as you said. Understood?"

Carly only nodded. She hadn't really expected it, but now that they were staying, she could feel her doubts creeping up again. As her mother turned for the door, she realized that all she could hope for was that she hadn't just made the biggest mistake of her life.

* * *

He didn't like this. He didn't like this at all.

Sitting at the conference table, surrounded by the Pleasures, Mrs. Jones, and this Brad Snyder, Alex wanted nothing more than to lock himself in a cupboard or run away, acquire a new name and identity, and spend the rest of his life living with six cats and working at McDonald's until he owned the franchise.

The first option sounded childish and he'd been chided enough about his age to last him a lifetime. Option two it was.

Just as he was beginning to fantasize an escape route and whether or not his name should be French or Italian, the door to the room opened and the Rosadas took their seats once again. Not for the first time, Alex watched Carly, unsure if he would be able to see any resemblance between them. Her hair was blonder than his, probably highlighted or dyed. Her eyes seemed to be dark though, except he hadn't gotten a chance to really look. On another hand, she was pretty short. Alex may not have extensive knowledge of genetics or biology, but he held a fair amount of doubt that siblings could have such discrepancy in height… and another part of him knew that he was only wishing he was right.

"Is everything alright?" Mrs. Jones asked politely. He wasn't entirely sure, but Alex suspected a note of strain her voice. Was she worried?

_Of course she is_, he thought sardonically. _She's obviously hoping for some miracle to fall out of the sky and hit me on the head, magically curing me of all this post-traumatic stress._

"Mrs. Jones…" Ms. Rosada began and immediately Alex knew something was up. The woman kept her hands in her lap but remained composed. "I am going to admit that I am still at a loss. This is a lot to take in for me and especially Carly. We both agree that there is—" she hesitated before continuing,"—potential here but we also have our reasons for being cautious. So we've decided that we will remain here in the city for a few days and when we come to a decision, we will let you know." Her eyes landed on Alex and she added, "And you and your family."

The brief silence that ensued was broken by Mrs. Jones. "I understand completely… but I believe you should be discussing this with Alex and the Pleasures. They are part of this," she said, basically repeating what Alex had said earlier.

Feeling all eyes on him, he took a slow, deep breath, trying to unscramble the mess of emotions and thoughts crowding his mind. He hated to admit it but a tiny, _very_ tiny part of him insisted that something good could come from this. Then again, this was a situation which had roots in the one thing he hated most: MI6.

So he made a snap decision then and there. It was the last day of school and he felt no need to think any more about this than he considered necessary. "Whatever." He shrugged. "I'll go with whatever you decide," he said, directing his eyes toward Carly.

It felt odd, talking with strangers about whether or not they wanted to get to know each other. He could only imagine how much weirder (and more dangerous) it felt when not one but two governments were involved and, in the Rosadas' eyes, a possible lethal, unhinged ex-spy who may or may not be out for blood.

Once again, Alex found himself wondering what exactly he'd done to live such a life like this.

"Is that it then?" Sabina spoke up, the impatience barely hidden in her tone.

"Well, if that's all anyone would like to say, then yes." Mrs. Jones stood from her chair and everyone followed suit.

Alex couldn't get out of there fast enough. Even though he didn't know his way around the unfamiliar branch office, he would have made do with his decent sense of direction and what recollections he had from earlier had he not restrained himself from taking off without a word. Something was telling him he shouldn't be a rude ass and stomp off like a little girl. So, exercising as much self-control as he could manage, Alex walked at a leisurely pace with his family behind the CIA officer who was leading the group out.

Outside the front entrance in the warm sunlight, Alex and Sabina stood off to the side at awkward distances from Mr. and Mrs. Pleasure (who were offering Ms. Rosada their contact information with undiscerning enthusiasm) and Carly, who was failing miserably to look interested in the potted plant by the front doors. Mrs. Jones and Snyder were standing close together, talking in low voices. It was obvious, the discomfort and annoyance radiating from the seventeen-year-old. Sabina had long resolved that Alex could never have anything to do with MI6 again. After everything he'd been through, it made her angry knowing that awful Mrs. Jones was getting involved again. Nothing good ever came from Alex's spy life; how would this time be any different?

Sabina glanced over at Alex, knowing he was avoiding eye contact with her. For a while he'd been that way- he grew quiet and unresponsive when he was either upset or in deep thought, though usually both occurred together. Only when he was _really_ riled up did he verbally express himself, most of the time not caring what came out of his mouth or who he was yelling at. It was easy but saddening to see in how many ways Alex had changed since he'd moved in with the Pleasures.

Before Sabina could mull over them for the hundredth time, the exchange was over and Mrs. Jones was approaching her and Alex. "Alex..." she began, then stopped. It seemed that she didn't know what to say. Her eyes darted towards Sabina, who didn't look particularly in favor of her presence, and flickered back to Alex. "Good luck," the MI6 head managed to say just as the Pleasures appeared behind her. Both teenagers had a feeling that wishing him luck wasn't originally what she'd wanted to say.

"Thanks," Alex mumbled before turning to leave. Neither he nor Sabina bothered to bid the Rosadas goodbye as they followed Mrs. Jones and Snyder to the BMW. After climbing into the family's conventional 1998 Jeep Grand Cherokee, he buckled up and pulled out his iPhone with its earphones, wasting no time with shoving them in. He scrolled through his playlists, searching for something that could distract him and keep his mind off things. Where were the awful screamo songs when he needed them? He made a mental note to download some later.

The car started moving and Mrs. Pleasure, in the passenger seat directly in front of Alex, twisted around to look at her surrogate son. "Are you feeling all right, Alex?" Unfortunately his head was bent over his phone and he didn't respond. From the other side of the car, Sabina appeared to be oblivious as she stared out the window, also tuned in to her music. Deciding to let it go for now, Mrs. Pleasure turned back around, exchanging a look with her husband.

But Alex still hadn't chosen a song yet. He'd just feigned business because he wasn't in the mood for a pep talk or whatever Mrs. Pleasure was trying to start. He had never been one for "sharing and expressing feelings" as his old therapist had put it. The only thing he needed right now was alone time.

Alone time was waiting for him some long thirty-seven minutes later when they finally arrived home. It had been dead silent during the whole ride but that wasn't the kind of silence he'd been yearning for. The first one out of the car and into the apartment, Alex headed straight for the stairs with Sabina right behind him.

"We'll call when dinner is ready," Mrs. Pleasure called to the two teenagers as they disappeared above her. Not bothering to ask if they'd heard, she let out a sigh and went to the kitchen.

Back in his room, Alex flopped backwards onto his bed after shutting the door and stared at the ceiling. When he had first arrived in San Francisco last year, his room had been set up already with a twin bed, desk and chair, bedside table, and bookshelf. The Pleasures had left everything plain, telling him that he could decorate it however he wanted. Today... it still looked nearly the same. There was a navy blue comforter on the bed, both a regular and lava lamp on the desk along with a few notebooks, and several soccer posters on the walls. His closet was only half filled with clothes, none of which had arrived with him from London; he'd gotten rid of those.

The one thing that he hadn't noticed for his first few nights here were the glow-in-the-dark stars and planets on the ceiling directly above the bed. His initial reaction was to feel insulted that Edward and Liz would think he needed these stupid things as if he were a child but when he'd mentioned it to Sabina, she'd laughed at him.

"Silly Alex," she'd said with a grin on her lips. "_I_ put those up there! My parents want you to decorate the place yourself. That's why everything is so plain."

"What do you think I'd need those for?"

Then her smile had faltered and her response was unexpected. "You might try to deny it, but I know you're scared, Alex," she'd said softly, raising her eyes to his. "But I don't want you to be afraid anymore. I want you to feel safe. So I was hoping the stars might soothe you at night, when you feel that you're lost or frightened in the dark."

Looking at them now, Alex wondered why there were only two planets and seven stars. He was sure the package had to have come with a lot more and unless she had misplaced them all, Sabina must have meant something by it. He just couldn't figure it out and wasn't bothered enough to ask her.

A vibration in his pocket jerked him away from his thoughts. It was a text from Landon, asking if Alex was "stoked about tomorrow's party." With a groan of disgust, Alex tossed the phone onto the bed. He hadn't been _too _thrilled about it in the first place but with so much on his mind now... maybe it would be good for him despite how reluctant he felt at the moment about crowds. Perhaps a drink or two would relieve the stress accumulated from tonight. And speaking of that party...

Sabina. Alex would make her go, no matter how much she refused. He _knew _she wished she had been invited and, thanks to his therapist, that she was displaying the defense mechanism of reaction formation. Even if she was insisting that she had no interest in attending or hated Jenny Aldridge too much to be near her, it was all to cover up her true feelings.

Yeah, that's exactly it, Alex told himself as he pushed himself upright and off the bed.

He knew the closed door was locked before he approached it. Taylor Swift could be heard at a moderate volume, probably from Sabina's iHome, but nothing else. After a moment of hesitation, he raised his knuckles to knock—

"Go away, Alex."

He frowned. He hadn't made a sound upon coming to her door. "How'd you know—?"

"I can see your shadow under the door," she explained in a dull voice.

Glancing down, Alex then understood what she meant. The hallway light on the ceiling behind him allowed her to see any feet that stopped in front of her door. Even so, he wasn't leaving. "Sab, I just want to talk. Will you please open the door?"

A pause. Then: "If you want to talk, you can do it out there."

He rolled his eyes. "Come on, Sabina. Let me in." _I don't understand why you're angry with me_, he mentally added.

Taylor's singing only grew louder. Sighing, Alex tried again, raising his voice over the music. "Sabina, you know very well that I can pick this lock open. Unless you want me to, you'll have to open the door." He waited, hearing no response. Just when he turned to leave, suddenly the door was open and Sabina was staring at him with hard blue eyes.

It took him a moment to realize that they were rimmed slightly with red. Instinctively, his chest tightened and he reached for her but she stepped back, holding the door open for him. Alex entered her room and watched as she shut the door and went to sit cross-legged on her bed, not once looking at him. Unlike his, her bedroom was brightly colored and decorated with pictures, posters of her favorite artists and actors (mostly male), and art projects she'd made over the years. The window next to her bed was pushed halfway open, allowing the cool late afternoon breeze to wash in.

Neither of them spoke for what felt like a minute while the Taylor song transitioned into Adele. Alex then decided that he couldn't stand there and watch her attempt to act like nothing was wrong. He walked over and sat next to her on the bed, leaving a good amount of space between them. "I still don't get what you like so much about that Taylor girl."

A ghost of a smile passed Sabina's lips, relieving Alex a bit. She took a deep breath and looked up at him. The hardness had gone from her eyes; now she just looked exhausted and in need of sleep. "You're a guy. You're not supposed to get it," she replied cheekily.

They both laughed lightly and Alex almost forgot why he was there in the first place. Seeing there was no way to beat around the bush, he went straight to it. "Are you upset about what happened today? With Mrs. Jones?"

Sabina glanced away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. After moving in with her, Alex had begun to notice it was a nervous habit. "You could say that," she answered nonchalantly, "but I guess it isn't much of a surprise to you, is it?"

When she turned her eyes on him again, he found himself unsure of what he'd been expecting. In a way, it made sense that she didn't trust what the head of MI6 was trying to do, but in another... Alex shrugged. "Well, I suppose I didn't think you would be as... eager... as your parents but not the exact opposite either."

Sighing, she said, "I'm sorry. I just don't like the idea of her making another appearance in your life, Alex. I really thought she would be gone forever."

Still watching her, he reached out unthinkingly and grasped her hand. "I know. Believe me, I know. But… I'm going to give a shot. For your parents. Our parents." His voice lowered as he added, "I need to give them something to hope for." And he said it, Alex realized it was true. Back at the CIA branch office, he'd been convinced that the hope he was feeling was a pathetic emotion he had been trying to suppress and that he was an idiot for finally seeing it. Now, it made perfect sense if he really thought about it.

She stared down at their entwined hands, wondering to herself if he was feeling sparks like she was. Before the thought could occupy her mind, she forced herself to squeeze his fingers and smile. "I suppose so. They did look quite… excited back there." She hesitated and then added, "Hopefully everything turns out well." She couldn't say anymore.

_Yeah. Hopefully, _he thought. "Are you alright then?" Alex asked, giving her an earnest look. "I don't want you to be upset anymore."

"I'm fine, Alex. Thank you." She nodded, the corner of her mouth lifting in a funny grin. It took him a moment to realize that she was imitating what she'd always thought was his smile. What _he_ didn't know was that it was the smile that had begun to appear after moving to America. Different. Impish… Unnatural.

And with that, Sabina pulled him into an embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her body warmth was all too familiar to Alex and he could smell the faint scent of her shampoo. Even though she smiled like everything was fine again and said that she was alright, Alex knew her better than anyone. She might have been able to spew that stuff to her parents or her friends but none of them could read her the way he could… and she knew that.

She'd always been a terrible liar.

* * *

**Note:** Yay, looks like that they've got that solved... Maybe (; I only did this with the OISAB fic but I figure I should do it more often because I value your input. You don't have to answer them all, just use them as something you can consider while/if your write a review :)

What would you like/expect to see from Alex and Carly?

What would you like/expect to see from Alex and Sabina?

I know it's a bit early in the story, but any theories on the separation of the twins?

Thanks so much again. Let's see if I can update quicker.


	4. Party

**Note: **I definitely did not expect to update right after posting an AN about updating within the next two weeks... But I take it as a good sign haha. I wrote most of this last night on a whim after watching the movie _Mama_ (and no i did not like it because I don't like scary movies) and it turned out better than i thought it would! Because usually it takes a lot more to get a decent chapter done.

So here. It's kind of a filler chapter, sorta, but hopefully you enjoy it. It's shorter than I wanted but I don't think anything NEEDS to be added to it. I didn't realize until after reading it that the story has been lacking a bit in the humor department so perhaps this suffices.

Also, a bit of warning: there are mentions of underage drinking and _slight _sexual activity. Notice the word SLIGHT, meaning "not too little for a below T rating, not too much for above T" but other than that... Enjoy!(:

Oh, and guess who graduates high school in 2 days?! :D

**Chapter 4: Party**

"Alex, slow down. We've only been here an hour and you're already..."

Sabina pressed her lips together as the blond ex-spy beside her took a long, slow sip from the ice cold beer in his hand. It was clearly an act of defiance against her wishes; he'd heard her and they both knew it.

It was six thirty when they had arrived at Jenny's massive three-story home nestled in the hills at the edge of San Francisco. That morning, Alex had convinced her to go with him, saying something about who was going to keep Landon in line when he was doing too many keg stands or streaking down the road bare naked. Now Sabina was wondering to herself if it was really Landon that she had to keep an eye on... at the rate Alex was going, she wouldn't have been surprised if it turned out that she would have to be picking up _his_ clothes off the ground tonight.

Huffing a sigh, Sabina thought back to the events from the day before. She blamed that damn Mrs. Jones. Had she not interrupted Alex's life and put it on him to feel like he was obligated to partake in her little self-fulfillment project, he wouldn't be trying to drink his worries away. He wouldn't be ignoring Sabina, picking up another beer when he hadn't even finished the one in his hand. It felt like last night hadn't even happened. Though she hadn't exactly told Alex the truth, she'd hoped that even what little reconciliation had been made between them would settle things.

But it was clear that she was naive. She still didn't trust MI6 or those Rosada people, and especially not what they were trying to do. And it seemed that Alex hadn't been true to his word much last night either. If Mrs. Jones's reappearance wasn't the trigger for his sudden drinking, Sabina didn't know what was.

"I mean it, Alex," she urged again, watching as the rim of the can touched his lips once more. "Stop it. You're going to regret this. You'll have a massive headache tomorrow morning and Mom and Dad will be furious." Truthfully, the second part wasn't guaranteed. Alex had been caught drunk by them before but he'd managed to lie through his beer-stained teeth about having his drinks spiked at someone's birthday party. Mr. and Mrs. Pleasure had displayed a good amount of concern towards him and did nothing more than lecture him about being careful with who his friends were, etc etc. If they caught him again this time, he would probably be able to get away with it and suffer another scolding, or maybe they'd actually realize how voluntary his drunken states were and punish him much more efficiently.

Secretly, Sabina was hoping for the second option but she still would prefer that he didn't drink at all.

Before she could snatch the can from him, Alex turned towards her and said, "The more reason for me to drink, Sab." His words were clear and articulate, most definitely not the slurred speech a normal teenager would splutter. Then again, his metabolism worked a little quicker than any other boy's his age, and it would probably be a couple more beers until he really started making bad decisions.

Sabina didn't reply. She was busy witnessing the emptiness and coldness in his eyes. They only accompanied his words, a sure giveaway sign that told her there was definitely a motive behind every sip that he took. Just as she opened her mouth to ask him about it, he stood up with his drink and walked away, leaving her alone on the couch, four feet away from a couple that obviously had a problem with the layer of clothes between them.

Alex pushed through the hot, sweaty bodies jumping around to Chris Brown in the Aldridge's living room and out to the other side, where a group of boys were in the kitchen mixing drinks in those infamous red plastic cups. One of them was Landon, who spotted him approaching.

"Alex! There you are, man. Where you been? You've gotta try this. Two sips and it had Mikey _so _buzzed, he's already puked twice!"

As if on cue, the shaggy-haired freshman slapped a hand to his mouth and bolted from the kitchen. _Make that three, _Alex thought and walked over to Landon, glancing down at the cup, which was surrounded by a number of expensive wine and vodka bottles. "Well, if it's gonna make me sick that quickly, I think I'll pass."

Landon shook his head. His eyes were bright but he wasn't drunk yet. He was just always too hyper. Alex often wondered to himself why the poor kid hadn't been diagnosed with attention deficit disorder yet. "Naw, he's just got a real sensitive stomach. This is his first party. And I've already tried it. Don't really feel anything yet but I'll wait 'til later to have more."

Kyle, one of the seniors who'd just graduated, walked in with an eyebrow raised at Alex. "You snap one of Sabina's Barbie doll necks, Rider? She sure looks pissed out there."

"She's fine," Alex answered abruptly, lifting his can to his lips as he kept his gaze on the wall.

"You need to get her a drink, man," Landon put in. He held up the cup he'd just brewed.

"She doesn't drink."

"Bullshit and you know it." Landon scoffed and turned to speak to the other guys, about to tell a story. "I remember the last time she got tipsy. I don't think Brandon Marshall is ever gonna let her forget that night. I'm pretty sure he still asks her if her knees are sore from the bathroom tile—"

"Landon!"

Everyone froze. Not one sound was made in the large kitchen; it was like someone had pushed a mute button. All their eyes were watching the two boys, the noise from beyond seeming distant and unreal. Landon turned to see Alex giving him a cold glare. "Watch your mouth. You _know _how much Sabina hates what she did and she regrets it."

Several slow moments passed before his friend looked at the floor and said quietly, "Sorry. I didn't mean anything by it."

Alex looked away; he knew he was genuine. The guy might've been a bit stupid now and then, irresponsible... insensitive... but he was usually innocent in the sense that he never intended to hurt anyone. He reminded Alex of Tom in that way...

"Why are you asking me, anyway?" He turned to Kyle, who was pouring himself another drink. "What makes you think I did anything to piss her off? Landon's the one you should be asking."

Everyone glanced at Landon who only shrugged. "I do get on her nerves a lot."

Kyle replied, "Well, I don't know. She already seemed annoyed when you guys got here so I figured she's mad about something you did. Don't quote me on it though, I could be wrong." He held up his hands defensively. "And I'm not tryna say anything about you either."

"She's probably pissed about Jenny." One of the other guys, Jackson, had spoken up. He was looking at Alex as he explained, "It's going around that she's really into you, Alex. Apparently she has been all year and was too shy to ask you out."

Landon rolled his eyes and repeated, "Too shy," adding air quotes with his fingers.

"Just another stupid rumor." Alex shook his head. He'd heard so much gossip with Jenny's name on it that he didn't know what was true and what was just another dumb lie made up by a jealous, dumb girl or heartbroken guy (probably dumb too).

"I'm not sure about that..." Jackson said slowly. "You were pretty high on that top invite list."

"_And_ she's pretty picky about her guys, so you must have something we don't," another guy joked.

"Well, it's no secret that ninety-eight percent of the girls at school want him," Landon said with a grin before Alex could say anything.

Kyle snorted. "What about the other two percent?"

Landon shrugged and took a gulp from his cup. "Either lesbian or in denial."

"Okay, can we stop talking about this?" Alex crushed the empty can in his hand and tossed it into the overflowing trash bag in the corner. It bounced off a bottle of Jack Daniels and tumbled to the floor.

Jackson held up a hand before reaching for the Stella Artois on the counter. "Just tellin' you the truth, man."

"Or what passes as one nowadays," Landon added.

Alex mumbled that he needed fresh air and left the boys in the kitchen. Instead of going back to the living room and facing Sabina, he found his way to the glass sliding doors that led to the back patio. The cool evening air met his hot skin and he greedily breathed it in, allowing his head to be cleared. Walking across the large wooden patio, he leaned against the rail and stared at the huge pool before him. The lights under the still water gave it an illusion of iridescent cerulean blue glass and it calmed him.

He didn't want them to, but his thoughts drifted toward Sabina. He'd been perfectly aware fifteen minutes ago that he was drinking more than usual. His body allowed him to drink a few more beers than the average guy at this party but that didn't mean he wasn't buzzed. Was he trying to be? He didn't know. Sabina probably suspected it had something to do with yesterday but Alex refused to think that was the reason. Maybe he just missed the numb, fuzzy feeling of being under the influence. Maybe he needed to feel like he was in control- though drinking alcohol seemed contrary to that- of something he actually wanted. Maybe-

"Alex?"

Immediately the first thing he thought of was Sabina, but it took another second to realize that the voice was too innocent to be hers. He didn't turn around but instead waited until his hostess arrived at his side.

"What can I do for you, Jenny?"

The long-haired brunette looked up at him with a faint smile. "Just wondering what you're doing out here all by yourself." She was short, Alex noted. She was the same age but almost a whole foot shorter than him, kind of like Car-

"You feeling okay?" she asked, never removing her gaze.

Alex shrugged. "Thanks for inviting me. And Sabina."

Jenny smiled again and glanced out at the water. "My pleasure."

He didn't realize the pun in her reply until she was speaking again. "I've got aspirin if you need any."

"No, I'm good. Thanks."

Another long moment passed as the two teens listened to the faint thumping from behind them, overlapped by the sounds of shrieking girls and overexcited male testosterone. "We should go back in—" Alex began.

"Are you any good with—" Jenny started. "Oh, sorry."

"No, it's fine. You go ahead."

"Oh, okay, well... I was just wondering if you were any good at computers. Mine's been acting up and I've heard that you're pretty handy with technology, so I figured that since you're here..." She trailed off and then shook her head. "Never mind, sorry. You should be having fun. I invited you to party." She laughed. It was kind of a nice sound.

"I'll look at it," Alex replied at once, looking at her.

"Yeah?" She seemed slightly taken aback. Had she been expecting him to say no?

"Yeah."

"Cool."

Jenny turned and headed toward the doors, Alex on her heels. The two of them meandered through the throng of teenagers, all the way to the foot of the spiral staircase. Alex was aware of several pairs of curious eyes watching him but he thought little of it. Before he could take two steps, someone was calling his name.

Jackson was walking toward him with a shot glass in his hand. From where he stood, Alex could vaguely recall the color of Landon's brewing masterpiece from earlier. This small container in Jackson's hand was of the same caramel brown shade. Not letting him speak, Alex snatched the shot glass and threw his head back, letting the liquid slither down his throat. Swallowing it with a slight grimace, he raised the glass to Jackson, who was staring at him, and put it back in his hand before heading up the stairs.

On the second floor, the noise and ruckus from downstairs wasn't as bad. A few doors were shut and as Jenny led Alex past them, his suspicions were confirmed. Trying to get the sounds out of his head, he asked her what was wrong with her computer.

As she climbed the stairs to the third floor, she answered, "Oh, it just won't sync with anything."

They reached her room, which was the last room at the end of the hall. Up here on the third floor, it was much quieter. There was no pop music, no triumphant yells from drunken beer pong addicts, and most definitely no porn sounds. Her room was four times larger than his and he'd never seen so much blue and purple in one place before... other than a bruise, of course. He'd seen plenty of those.

Jenny pointed to the corner where an iMac was sitting on a fancy desk, accompanied by school notebooks, an iPod, and a MacBook. The girl could've been an advocate for Apple products if she wanted to. "It's the iMac," she clarified.

As Alex crossed her giant room, he was aware that Jenny was shutting the door. Part of him was screaming that this was a bad idea but every other part that had taken a drink didn't care. Sitting on the leather office chair, he reached to turn the computer on.

Her hand stopped him. Alex stared at the perfectly shaped violet nails before glancing up into her eyes framed by perfectly shaped eyebrows. After a moment, he stated bluntly, "There's nothing wrong with your computer."

Jenny didn't seem to have heard him speak. "You've probably already heard..." Her voice was low and she continued staring at him, her fingers still wrapped loosely around his wrist.

He swallowed hard. His mind was starting to feel fuzzy (at least, fuzzier than earlier) and his mouth suddenly felt dry. "Yeah. I have." Alex was having trouble tearing his eyes away from hers. Or perhaps he didn't want to. "I think it's cute," he added without thinking.

Blinking, she released him and stepped back. "You do?"

The fuzz kept creeping at him, tickling his skin, and making shivers go up his spine. Damn, that recipe Landon had cooked up was doing some weird magic... Suddenly Jenny was starting to look really beautiful... not that she hadn't been attractive before, of course, but wow... Had Alex really been that ignorant of her beauty before? Her hair looked really soft... and her ski-slope nose appeared to be really kissable. Was the room supposed to feel like it was spinning? He'd never been a fan of centrifugal force, especially on the ferris wheel... Or was it called something else? God, those eyes... how could they be so magnetic...?

Alex didn't know how it happened, but suddenly his lips were smashed against hers and they were stumbling towards the king-sized bed. One moment they'd been staring at each other and then another, they were desperate to touch each other. Whatever had happened in between was lost to Alex and he wasn't bothered to find it.

His shirt was off and her cool hands were gliding all over his exposed skin. Her lips tasted sweet, like strawberries and cream or whatever, but her tongue was all alcohol... and somewhere something told him that he liked it. A lot. He managed to push her blouse up over her head, revealing a ruby red bra dotted with white hearts. They both shared grins and then more kisses, falling back onto the bed. A slow, warm flame trickled through his veins, making him slightly lethargic but satisfied all the same. If he had known that this was what kissing Jenny Aldridge would be like, he would've celebrated at the first mention of her having a crush on him.

"I don't know what you've done with other girls in the past," Jenny breathed in his ear as she pushed him back on the comforter, "but I'll do what they did and more."

Her words struck something in him and, briefly, he stopped. From what he could remember at the moment, he actually hadn't done much more at a party than make out with a girl. Some clothes were shed sometimes but nothing more than that...

He was about to speak when he realized that the girl straddling him from above was reaching behind herself. At first he didn't understand what she was doing until the cups of her bra loosened and the straps were slipping down her shoulders-

"Jenny, don't—" Alex reached out to stop her just as the bedroom door opened.

There was a "Oh, shit" and he and Jenny turned to see Sabina and Landon standing in the hallway, gaping at them. Alex sat up quickly, pushing Jenny off him as she went to cover herself with a fluffy pillow. "What the fu—" she tried to say.

"Sabina." Alex's throat tightened as he watched the realization and pain terrorize her features. _It's not what it looks like_, he wanted to say, but knew it was no use.

Sabina didn't waste any time. She spun around and fled, pushing Landon aside and running back down the stairs. Alex sat there, too frozen with shock to move or say anything. His heart pounded and it wasn't from the intense make out session he'd just had.

Landon's wide eyes moved from Alex to Jenny, both breathing heavily, and then back again. "Dude, you are so screwed."

Then Alex leaned over the side of the bed and threw up.

* * *

**Note: **Please review! I can't write good stuff for you if I don't know what you like or don't like :) Thanks!


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